


the bright and ephemeral world

by saebeok



Category: Super Junior, Super Junior-M
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 05:04:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4653432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saebeok/pseuds/saebeok
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dethroned from his rightful position of the Crown Prince as a child, Kyuhyun has lived his life with the sole purpose of revenge. Yet, fate seems to have different plans for him, and the new Prince he intends to kill throws Kyuhyun's own plans into disarray instead…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for sobaek, as part of the qmidayeveryday exchange.
> 
> Many thanks to Jo for taking on this monster of a fic for her first try at beta-ing!
> 
> The title of this fic was inspired by Mayday's "生命有一種絕對" (the one absolute in life).

_18 years ago_

Thick, roiling smoke and screams filled the air as the invaders made their ruthless way through the palace, dressed in midnight-black, leaving a trail of bodies in their wake. Their movements were swift and their blades merciless - it was clear they did not intend to leave anybody alive.

There was no way out. Absolutely no way at all, unless you were a certain groundskeeper.

Groundskeeper Lee’s knees had seen better days, and they threatened to give out on him now as he ran for his life. He had to get to the ravine - there was no other way to leave the palace. The mud squelched under his feet, reminding him of the heavy storm that had only just passed a few hours ago. With luck, the ravine would be flooded. It _had_ to be.

Rounding the corner, he heard a succession of heavy footsteps and shouting in a guttural foreign tongue. He froze. Backtracked as quietly as he could. Cast about desperately. Dove into a thicket of bushes.

Hold his breath, he listened as the invaders approached and scouted the area for a number of agonising minutes. Lee screwed his eyes shut in panic, praying that he would not be found. He needed to make it home to his family. His sons were waiting for him - oh, if only he hadn’t left his hometown to begin with! 

The sounds intensified for a while, then died down. When the men finally left, he exhaled, feeling light-headed with fear.

Carefully creeping out again, he resumed his sprint only to collide into someone running at an equally frenzied speed. Lee stumbled, narrowly avoiding crashing into a pillar. Recovering from the momentary shock, he realised that it wasn’t one of the soldiers. It was a woman - the Queen.

“Y-your Majesty!”

She lurched forward and he reached to steady her, only just noticing that she was carrying a child in her arms. The Crown Prince. The child almost cried out in alarm but Lee quickly clapped a hand over his mouth, glancing around.

“Your Majesty, there is a secret way out but we have to hurry. Let me carry the Prince.”

“I can’t… Please, take Kyuhyun with you.”

The Queen pushed the crying child to him, and Lee’s arms instinctively tightened around the boy. Her face was ashen and now that she was no longer holding onto the child, Lee finally noticed the dark stain spreading around her midsection, stark and terrible against the delicate colours of her hanbok.

“Mama!” The Prince twisted around in Lee’s grip, tears running down his face as he tried to reach for his mother.

“Run. Please. Save my child.” The Queen pleaded. She wept as she reached out to cradle her child’s face briefly. “My love, you have to survive. Live to grow up well.”

Shouts in the distance, the sounds of hoofs. There was no other way.

Lee met the Queen’s stricken gaze, mustering up the rest of his courage to give her a firm nod. “Your child will live, Your Majesty. I will ensure that with my life.”

The Queen nodded, and as she let go of the Prince, the sounds of the invaders grew louder. With a gasp, the Queen slowly crumpled to the ground, her strength spent. 

Lee hefted the child more securely in his grip, turned around, and ran, ran, ran. 

They managed to reach the ravine at the edge of the palace unfollowed. The child was still sobbing in Lee’s arms but he was quiet. The rain had been heavy enough and the waters were swollen and swift. It was very dark out and the flooding looked dangerous, but Lee was from a fishing town and could swim better than he could walk. That is, when his arms were unencumbered. 

“Prince Kyuhyun, I need you to hold on tightly to me,” Lee whispered hoarsely. “No matter what, unless I tell you so, don’t let go.”

The Prince nodded, and Lee looked back one more time at the ruined palace before he looked down at the ravine, and jumped.

\---

_The present_

“You really are abandoning us for the capital,” Donghae mutters glumly as they approach the boundary of their province - a swift river that they had spent their childhood playing in, in spite of their father’s warnings. 

“Don’t be like that,” Kyuhyun nudges his shoulder placatingly, “I’ll visit when I can. Or you can come and find me.”

It’s a wonderfully cool day, which is just as well for Kyuhyun’s departure. It’s going to be a few more hours of walking from here before he reaches the next town where he can buy a horse. Kyuhyun hungrily drinks in the scenery around him with his eyes - it will be a while before he sees their peaceful village again, and the glittering sea behind it. 

When they get to the bridge, Kyuhyun turns to look at Donghae, who pulls him into a rib-crushing hug. “Take care of yourself, Hyun.”

Kyuhyun nods, closing his eyes when it feels like he’s going to tear up. Out of everything, he will probably miss Donghae the most. Donghae, who knows him inside out and who’s the best older brother Kyuhyun could ask for. (He never admits to it because it’ll make Donghwa jealous, but Donghae has always been his favourite brother.) Donghae makes him promise to write, even if none of them can read nearly as well as Kyuhyun can, and it will take them ages to get through a letter. 

Finally, with all his goodbyes said, Kyuhyun shoulders his belongings and steps onto the bridge, going on his way. It’s the first step towards completing the mission he has devoted his life to.

The day he received news that he had topped the Imperial Examinations, Kyuhyun had fallen to his knees in shock and relief and joy. He was going to become an official. He was going to enter the palace. 

When he told his father the news, the old man fell silent for a while, before grasping his shoulder and looking at him steadily, ardently. “Cho Kyuhyun,” he’d whispered, and it startled Kyuhyun, for he had not heard his birth name spoken out loud in years, “My beloved son and my Prince, I am so proud of you.”

The memory makes Kyuhyun want to weep again, and so he clears his throat and focuses on the road ahead. Every step takes him further away from his life as Lee Donghyun, the adoptive son from a family of simple fisherfolk, and closer towards the life that he had left, the life of Cho Kyuhyun, the life that had been ripped from him all those years ago, on a terrible night of smoke and flames and blood.

Kyuhyun clenches his fists and tells himself that there is no more room for tears now that he has left home. Vengeance will never be the province of the soft-hearted. 

\---

Becoming a junior official is but the beginning of Kyuhyun’s plan. It’s a plan that has been set in motion the day he was carried away from everything he had ever known as a child. It’s a plan that he hasn’t once wavered from since then. While Donghae and Donghwa had only had a few years of schooling before they threw themselves into learning the trade of fishing from their father - something that most of the other children in the village did as well - Kyuhyun made the daily walk to a school in the local township to continue his studies. Sometimes he felt guilty because he wasn’t helping the family to earn anything and yet also had school to pay for, but his father told him not to worry, that their family had plenty to live on still.

“You have a different destiny from us all,” his father said. “Besides, what would the late King and Queen say if they knew their son - the last of the royal family - was going to wind up a common fisherman? So don’t you worry, Donghyun.”

“Besides,” Donghae added with a grin, “you’re horrible at swimming. You really should stick to your books.”

Yet, for all his unathleticism in the water, Kyuhyun is good at fighting. Being the youngest brother to Donghae and Donghwa means that he grew used to holding his own in roughhousing. When he turned old enough to carry a heavy blade, Kyuhyun had also picked up swordfighting from the blacksmith’s son, frequently practising late into the night, even after everyone else had gone to sleep. 

These nightly practices becomes a ritual that follows him even all the way to the capital. Kyuhyun cannot sleep otherwise - without the leaden weight of exhaustion weighing on his limbs, he is frequently visited by nightmares full of flame and smoke and blood. Besides, his work can be onerous and the there are days when he feels like he will never make it into the palace and he is consumed by self-doubt and a sense that his life will fritter away just like that, his years burnt as a no-name junior official in a district courthouse. On those days he trains relentlessly, pours all the wasted purposefulness into every sweep of the blade, every parry, and imagines that final triumphant moment where he kills his enemies and avenges his parents.

This fantasy of revenge is one that he hasn’t shared with anyone. It would horrify his brothers. They have inherited his adoptive father’s gentle spirit and were happy to believe that Kyuhyun’s singular devotion to swordfighting is due to his interest in it and nothing more. 

Some nights, when he was practising, their father used to come outside and sit in their yard to watch him as he ran through the motions. 

“You’re working very hard at this,” he’d said, once.

“Thanks, appa,” Kyuhyun had mumbled, “you should sleep first.”

Somehow, his father managed to come up silently from behind him and lay a gentle hand on his back when Kyuhyun wasn’t noticing. Kyuhyun became still, glancing back questioningly.

“I know it hasn’t been easy for you, living without your parents.”

“I have you,” Kyuhyun smiled, lowering the sword to wipe the sweat from his brow. 

His father patted his back gently before moving to the well in their yard. There was already a pail of water drawn, and Kyuhyun watched as he reached down to scoop some with a wooden cup and brought it over. 

“Drink,” his father said and Kyuhyun obeyed, drinking half of the cool water and using the rest to wash his face. He tossed the cup back into the pail, watching it bob on the surface as he sheathed his sword before turning to grin at his father. 

“Let’s go in.”

“Donghyun-ah,” his father said softly, catching him in his steps. “Hate is a heavy thing to carry inside of yourself. It doesn’t have to be a burden you have to bear.”

The moon was bright that night, Kyuhyun still remembers. It remained in the corner of his vision even as his father came close and reached out to cup his face in a pair of hands that have been calloused from fishing nets and hard work. Kyuhyun never did reply to his father’s words, only stepped forward to wrap his arms around the old man’s waist. 

There are some days - they only come once in a while, but without warning - when Kyuhyun doesn’t feel consumed by frustration, but with loneliness. Sometimes the emptiness of the small room he lives in threatens to close in on Kyuhyun, and he is forced to confront the enormity of his task. He knows no one in the capital and if he were to disappear, his absence would not be remarked upon. It is a feeling that Kyuhyun cannot even dispel with the strongest rice wine, and so on these nights he takes out his sword and practises as well - not to imagine the vengeance he wants, but to linger in the memory of that night in the yard, the sweetness of the water and the smell of the sea in his father’s clothes. 

\---

“This is the third theft I’ve dealt with this week,” Kyuhyun murmurs as his latest plaintiff storms out of the office after making his report. It’s his first month at his new position at the Justice Bureau - another step forward, and a more stimulating office than the previous one he’d been in. 

“There has been a rise in burglaries too,” Ryeowook flips through a stack of papers, his brow furrowed. “A lot of the mercantile neighbourhoods are reporting losses in property.”

“But there hasn’t been a drought or anything of that sort. What’s going on?”

Before Ryeowook can reply, their chief walks in, followed by a stranger. The unfamiliar man is dressed in official robes, just like them, but Kyuhyun hasn’t seen him before. He must be new, and based on the colour of his robes, he’s their superior too. He is tall, and even though he is not smiling, he does not seem unkind. Kyuhyun only half-listens as the man is introduced as a new officer on a rotation to their unit, distracted by his own ponderings about the case they had only just been talking about. 

Eventually, Kyuhyun and Ryeowook are left alone with the newcomer, and they resume their discussion on the spate of thefts. Ryeowook even digs out old records to see if the seasons have anything to do with crime rates, but to little avail. The constables have yet to capture any of the thieves, and the growing number of new cases means that it could be a while before the problem is solved. Lost, they stare glumly at the papers strewn across the table.

“Let’s go to a tea-house.” Kyuhyun looks up at the new official’s - Joomyuk’s - words. 

“A tea-house?” 

“Yes. Perhaps a change in scenery would also bring some new ideas. Besides,” Joomyuk grins, “we could all use something to drink.”

He’s right. Kyuhyun really does feel thirsty, and even his brain feels parched. Besides, if Joomyuk is superior in rank to them, there is no harm in following his suggestion. Kyuhyun and Ryeowook follow his lead as Joomyuk clasps his hands behind his back and strides out of the bureau. He bears himself with pride, Kyuhyun thinks, but it is a dignified kind of pride, not arrogance. As they make their way down the road, Kyuhyun eyes Joomyuk’s broad, strong shoulders, and wonders if he was previously a palace guard or something. 

They adjourn to the town’s most popular tea-house. Kyuhyun steps in with some trepidation; the last time he had visited this place, it had been so crowded someone had tripped and spilt tea all over his clothes. Fortuitously, there are much fewer customers today, and they find a table without even having to elbow past anybody. Joomyuk orders them all tea and some rice cakes.

It’s a slow afternoon. Ryeowook’s eyes are drooping in the warmth of the tea room and they call for more tea numerous times. Joomyuk barely says anything and Kyuhyun wonders if he’d merely been wanting an excuse to get out of work. Perhaps they are very quiet, but the table next to them is also terribly loud and Ryeowook looks irritated at the coarseness of their laughter. Kyuhyun doesn’t quite mind as much - it almost reminds him of home. He’s about to say something when Joomyuk suddenly holds a hand up to stop him from speaking, nodding his head in the direction of the next table.

 _Listen_ , he mouths.

“I tell you, we should have purchased a larger stock of mugwort last month. The damned prices have gone up again and I’ll bet they won’t go down, not till next season.” The men at the table speak with a strong northern accents - Kyuhyun hadn’t really noticed before. He surreptitiously glances over, noting the rings adorning their fingers and their clothes. Merchants. Successful ones, too.

They listen in on the rest of the conversation - it appears that the merchants are in town not just for mugwort, but ginger and rice as well. Joomyuk looks deep in thought; Kyuhyun has a small inkling why he might be finding this conversation interesting, but he isn’t sure if his conjecture is correct. 

Eventually, the men leave, and with a start, Kyuhyun realises that the evening is upon them.

“We should retire for the day,” Joomyuk gently suggests. He drains the last of his tea and puts some money on the table as payment. “Do either of you live close to the market?”

“I do.”

“Excellent. Officer Kim, can you check on the prices of rice and common herbs before you come in tomorrow morning?”

With that, they part for the night. 

The next week passes in a blur of investigations that take them to market after market in the capital and even to a neighbouring town. It emerges that the northern states are facing a drought, and have taken to buying provisions from the capital at increasingly higher prices. To make things worse, there has been a bout of digestive ailments spreading through the poorer parts of the capital. When the constables eventually begin finding some of the thieves, it is as they guessed - they are merely civilians driven to desperation from illness and hunger. 

Having arrived at this conclusion, Kyuhyun sits back and folds his arms across his chest. “Now we know what the root of the problem is, but what can we do to solve it?”

“If we send our own merchants out it’s only going to pass the problem on elsewhere.” Ryeowook taps the end of his brush against the table. Kyuhyun’s heard that sound a lot the past few days. It’s something Ryeowook does when he’s deep in thought. “And even if we arrested all the thieves, I think there’s only going to be more.”

“The only way about it is to regulate prices, then, but that’s not a solution that will last long. We need to find a way to raise supplies without increasing our imports.”

Joomyuk hums approvingly, and when Kyuhyun meets his eyes, they are gleaming with excitement. “I believe the royal palace keeps a surplus stock of goods in the case of emergencies. I can put in a request for a release of supplies - that should provide some short-term relief.”

“I was previously in the Taxation Bureau,” Kyuhyun adds, his mind racing with possibilities. “They collect a third of farmers’ produce every month. If we could free up that amount for the marketplace until the next wet season…”

“We can stop the thefts and also stabilise the situation!” Ryeowook beams, but then deflates again. “But how on earth are we going to do that? It’ll take nothing less than an imperial edict.”

“Leave it to me,” Joomyuk’s voice is firm with conviction. He stands, gathering their investigation notes into a neat stack. “I’m from - my previous posting was in the palace. I know some people I can speak to about this.”

Before his words can fully sink in, Joomyuk’s gone and Ryeowook looks at Kyuhyun, their expressions of surprise mirrored in each other.

It takes two more weeks (and sixteen more thefts), but then Joomyuk strides into the bureau one day, his eyes shining with pride as he announces breathlessly, “They’ve just passed the edict for an agricultural tax break.”

Ryeowook utters a surprised laugh, and he springs from his chair to pull Joomyuk into a celebratory embrace before he remembers that they are, after all, of unequal stature in a way, and he lets go sheepishly. Joomyuk looks a little surprised, but then he recovers and clasps Ryeowook’s shoulder, grinning at Kyuhyun over the top of Ryeowook’s head. Kyuhyun can’t help but smile back.

“How on earth did you manage to get through to them so quickly? I heard the emergency stocks have also been released to the marketplace.”

“I knew some people that I could speak to,” Joomyuk says, his grin widening as he lets go of Ryeowook. He claps both hands together and proposes that they head to the same tea-house to celebrate, and even though Kyuhyun laughs and agrees, he doesn’t miss the vagueness of that statement. Joomyuk must have greater access in the palace than his official position suggests. He may prove yet to be a valuable asset for Kyuhyun’s quest, or a threat.

\---

Working in the Justice Bureau gives Kyuhyun the opportunity to witness many aspects of how the state is run, and as much as his heart is set on revenge, he can objectively tell that the country is generally well-ruled. Imperial policies are fair, for the most part, and the grievances of the citizenry do not go unheard and unaddressed. Years of studying about history and statesmanship tells Kyuhyun that this is not very common or easily achieved. 

If his parents had not been killed all those years ago… If his throne hadn’t been snatched away… Kyuhyun knows that he would be the Crown Prince now, would be knee-deep in managing the affairs of the state. Instead, there is another man in his place, someone Kyuhyun has never met in his life, someone who was probably just as young as Kyuhyun on the night he lost everything. Kyuhyun wonders if he would be fulfilling the duties of his office well now, if he were still the Crown Prince himself. He wonders if he can rule the country well, if he ever becomes King. Truth be told, he hasn’t given very much thought to what comes _after_ , to what will come after he has assassinated the current monarchy. In his mind he has always resigned himself to the reality that he will not make it out from his mission alive - there is only so much he can achieve alone, and surviving a palace’s worth of guards is not one of them. 

Nevertheless, this is something he has vowed to do. He hasn’t devoted his life to everything just to let go of his plans now, and so Kyuhyun keeps his head down and focuses on doing the best he can in his work, eyes fixed on a promotion into the palace.

A few more months pass. Kyuhyun grows to like both Ryeowook and Joomyuk very much. They work well as a team, and there is something satisfying about knowing that all three of them are young men who share a similar fire for public service. Sometimes, when Kyuhyun imagines reclaiming his throne, he thinks that Ryeowook and Joomyuk are the people he would love to have helping him rule the country. He still hasn’t figured out what position Joomyuk used to have in the palace, but he imagines he must have done well there too.

But then Ryeowook’s father falls ill, and he requests and receives a transfer to Incheon where he can be closer to home. Kyuhyun and Joomyuk take him out after his last day at the bureau, and they proceed to get royally drunk. Kyuhyun learns two particularly important things that night - that Ryeowook has a startlingly high tolerance for alcohol and can drink the both of them under the table any time, and that Joomyuk is, in truth, Chinese, but moved to Korea as a child. The first piece of knowledge is a particularly painful one, for he wakes up with a terrible headache the next morning and his stomach churns for the rest of the day. Yet, it is the second piece of knowledge that lingers in his mind - it explains why Joomyuk speaks Korean with that particular lilt of his, but it also makes Kyuhyun think of him more and more as somebody wrapped in layers of mystery. 

Yet, Kyuhyun does not have long to mull over it. After two more weeks of working with Joomyuk in a bureau that is now emptier and quieter without Ryeowook in it, Kyuhyun receives the promotion he’d worked all his life for. 

The papers arrive calling him to the Palace Treasury one day, and he stares at them, stunned with amazement. There is a sudden clatter of wind against the window panes, and the rain that has been falling all afternoon suddenly intensifies. Outside, the sounds of footsteps and hoofbeats become hurried as people and their horses scramble to escape the escalating downpour. A cart jolts over the pothole right outside the bureau with a clumsy, heavy bang, its passengers exclaiming in surprise before their voices fade into a grumble as they continue on their way. Kyuhyun grips the papers in his hand, his heart racing.

It is in that moment that Joomyuk throws the door open as he bursts inside. Kyuhyun jerks upright, turning towards the source of the noise, and somehow it feels like his heart freezes to a stop when their eyes meet. Joomyuk shakes the rain from the brim of his _gat_ , and the droplets fall onto his shoulders and his sleeves. The colour is high on his cheeks and he’s still breathing a little heavily. Perhaps it’s from all the exhilaration, but the unprecedented thought that Joomyuk is beautiful hits Kyuhyun’s chest like a thunderbolt.

“Donghyun? Is something wrong?”

Kyuhyun shakes his head a little too hurriedly, and holds up the official papers. “I’ve been called into the palace. For a new position.”

Joomyuk smiles, and comes over to take the documents. He peruses the elegant brushstrokes and asks, “is that something you want?” 

“Yes,” Kyuhyun admits. He forces himself to look away from the elegant curve of Joomyuk’s fingers. “It is.”

“I cannot think of anyone who deserves it more,” Joomyuk’s voice is warm and Kyuhyun cannot help but smile. “Well, this calls for a celebration.”

But Kyuhyun’s impending departure means that he has many affairs to tend to, and so their celebration has to wait until the day before he begins his new position. He finishes the last of his days at the bureau with no small measure of reluctance, but the thought of what lies ahead fill him with excitement. 

Finally, the day comes when he signs off the last of his documents, closes his last case, and cleans the ink off from his brush. Joomyuk stares at him with exaggerated gloominess and Kyuhyun teases him about it, but secretly feels a little sad at how empty their workroom looks now that Joomyuk is the only one left in it. The new officer replacing him will only come next week. 

“I was promised wine,” Kyuhyun says, gathering up his things, and Joomyuk stands up to lead the way.

When they step over the threshold into the smoky interior of the local tavern, Kyuhyun’s stomach gives a little twinge at the memory of the last time they’d been here. 

“Kim Ryeowook is not human,” he intones vehemently. Joomyuk laughs.

They whittle away at the hours of the night with a steady flow of wine and food, and as the patrons in the tavern slowly dwindle, Kyuhyun’s eyelids begin to droop dangerously. Joomyuk is already listing against the pillar beside him, even as he clumsily picks at some leftovers with hopelessly misaligned chopsticks. Kyuhyun sloshes more wine into Joomyuk’s cup, most of it sloshing gracelessly over the rim, and pushes it towards him. 

“Any advice for surviving the palace?” 

Joomyuk squints at him. “You’ll do fine. You can speak some Mandarin, can’t you?” When Kyuhyun nods, he looks satisfied and continues, “you have nothing to worry about. I know you’ll do well, Donghyun.”

“Kyuhyun,” the words leave his lips before Kyuhyun can reach through the addled haze of his drunkenness to suppress them. 

“What?”

“I was originally called Kyuhyun. But my name was changed when I was a child.” Kyuhyun scans Joomyuk’s face for any sign of recognition, but there is none. After all, who would remember the name of a deposed Prince from nearly two decades ago? To be safe, he adds, “my parents decided they preferred another name after all.”

“Oh,” Joomyuk knocks back his cup full of wine, swaying a little as he tries to straighten his back. “Lee Kyuhyun. That sounds nice too.” He grins lazily. “I would’ve liked your name either way.”

“What’s your name in Mandarin?”

“I don’t like it too much,” Joomyuk says vaguely. “It makes me feel out of place.”

“Will they make me use a Mandarin name in the palace?” Kyuhyun wonders aloud. The tavern is starting to feel uncomfortably warm and he rolls his sleeves up over his forearms. “They won’t, will they? What do you think?”

“They won’t. It’s entirely your choice. But would you like to know what your name would be? I could translate it for you.”

“Tell me… Tell me what my original name would’ve been. I have a feeling it’ll sound better than my official name. In Mandarin.”

Joomyuk nods, then frowns at the tabletop, visibly willing all that remains of his concentration into the task. If it were not such an impropriety, Kyuhyun would reach across to try and smoothen the lines on his forehead with his own fingertips. But he is not inebriated yet, and so he does not.

“Kui Xian.”

“Kui Xian?” The words sound strange; they are too light on Kyuhyun’s heavy tongue. 

“Yes,” Joomyuk says. He looks inordinately proud of himself, and resolutely pours the rest of the wine into their cups. “Drink up, Kui Xian. You need to be at the palace in the morning!”

They finish the last of the alcohol, and then the last of the food. Joomyuk waves away Kyuhyun’s offer to pay for half of it, pushing the coins into the shopkeeper’s hands and pushing the portly man away before Kyuhyun can dig in his pockets for money. They shrug on their outer coats and stumble precariously down the stairs and out into the cool night. Finally, there is nothing left to do but for them to part ways. 

Joomyuk smiles and Kyuhyun thinks that it must be all that drink making his heart beat a little faster. Before he can say anything, he finds himself enveloped in an embrace. Joomyuk’s body is warm and the material of his _jeogori_ is smooth. It must’ve rained at some point in time when they were drinking, for the scent of rain hangs in the air and it fills his lungs. Somehow Kyuhyun feels the desire to weep, and he resolves to never drink this much again, because his body seems to be betraying him bit by bit.

“Well, goodbye,” he says when they pull apart, gesturing helplessly to make up for the clumsiness of his words. “And thanks. For my new name. And for the treat.” 

Joomyuk leaves first; Kyuhyun watches him disappear around the corner before he stumbles back to his own lodging. His sword lies on the table, untouched for the past two weeks that Kyuhyun’s been too busy and tired tying up loose ends at the bureau. He stares at it until he falls into a deep sleep.

\---

Treasury business is _unfathomably complex_. Kyuhyun spends his first month in the Palace wading through a morass of numbers and calculations, constantly besieged with the sense that he is always missing out on some crucial piece of knowledge or other. The senior officials in the Treasury are usually too busy to offer him much guidance, and so Kyuhyun finds himself making frequent trips to the Scroll Room at all points of the day. When he returns home at night, he throws himself into sword practice again in order to dispel the damned numbers from his mind. On the nights when the questions from work keep him up at night regardless, Kyuhyun writes letters to his father and Donghae and Donghwa.

Another month passes before Kyuhyun finally musters the energy (and courage) to go down to the Justice Bureau. He steps through the familiar threshold, only to be greeted by an unfamiliar, dour-faced person who asks him what grievance he has to report. Joomyuk is nowhere in sight.

“Left the bureau a few weeks ago,” the new official explains. “He got transferred, I think.”

Kyuhyun goes to the tavern and stays there half the night nursing a small jar of wine, trying to ignore the scowls of the shopkeeper. There isn’t that tall figure Kyuhyun is looking for in sight. It is to be expected, and so Kyuhyun supposes he has no reason to feel disappointed, but a heaviness still weighs down his feet all the same. Eventually the raucous laughter in the tavern becomes too much to bear and Kyuhyun leaves. The capital is still bustling at this hour and he pushes through the crowd, past faces that flash by like elusive fishes at the bottom of a river.

His sword is waiting on the table, as always, when he gets back, but Kyuhyun chooses to walk past it and fold himself down onto his sleeping mat. He cannot stand to hoist his blade tonight; somehow he’s too tired even for that. Kyuhyun closes his eyes and sighs. He suddenly longs for an impending thunderstorm but the skies have been unbearably clear. However stupid and weak it is, he feels forgotten, abandoned.

There are occasions when Kyuhyun remembers that hazy night at the tavern, and the way Joomyuk’s fingertips had traced over the worn-down wooden tabletop as he’d puzzled out the Mandarin characters for Kyuhyun’s name. _Kui Xian_. For the longest time, Kyuhyun wondered what possessed him to tell Joomyuk his real name when it is one of his most deeply-kept secrets, one that could potentially place him in grave danger. Tonight, as he curls up on the floor, allowing that sense of emptiness to fill his chest, he finally realises what instinct had overridden all the layers of caution he’d wrapped around himself. He lets himself sink into the hypnotic memory of Joomyuk writing his invisible name over and over again, and thinks about how rare it was to have somebody in this huge, impersonal capital who even knew just one part of who he truly was.


	2. Chapter 2

The King is a formidable statesman. Kyuhyun gleans this much on the occasions he sweeps into the Treasury with all the force of a Spring gale, asking sharp questions in Mandarin that Kyuhyun can only just understand, and inspecting documents with a calculating eye. As a junior official, Kyuhyun never gets within range to see the King’s face clearly, but he hears that commanding voice talking incisively about matters of the state, and imagines it giving the bloodthirsty order for a massacre all those years ago. It makes him ignore the quiet approval that blooms in his heart, and grip his brush even tighter instead, gritting his teeth and bending his head further over his work, determination filling his heart anew.

At times, Kyuhyun thinks about Joomyuk and wonders where he went. It’s like he never existed in the capital before, like he had merely been a figment of Kyuhyun’s imagination all along. Indeed, Kyuhyun’s time at the Justice Bureau did feel as distant as a dream, the longer he stays at the Palace. 

He spends his free time wandering around the Palace as unobtrusively as he can, silently taking note of whatever might be useful to his assassination plot. The grounds are at once familiar and unfamiliar to him - he traverses the Palace with an instinctive knowledge of small quirks such as the walls along which persimmon trees grow and where the ponds are, but finds that he needs to relearn the routes and names of most of the halls, bridges and gates. The one landmark that remains indelibly etched in his mind is the ravine, but Kyuhyun cannot bear to get too close to it. He never catches sight of the Queen, nor the Crown Prince. Although the Palace really is beautiful, Kyuhyun sometimes finds himself missing the sight of the sea and the sound of its waves crashing against the rocks. 

More time passes, and just as Kyuhyun begins to worry about his next course of action, an inexplicable, unexpected Imperial Order arrives.

“Aide to the _Crown Prince_?” Kyuhyun has to hold on to the corner of the table; his knees are suddenly weak. “Me?”

The Palace Messenger, a timid-looking young man, nods, still holding the scroll out to him. Kyuhyun weakly takes it. From the corner of his eye, Kyuhyun can see his fellow officials gaping at him, their work forgotten.

“You are to report to the Palace of the Crown Prince in two days, sire,” the Messenger bows, and then retreats. 

Kyuhyun sinks down onto his chair, his knees weak. He receives words of congratulations and someone even claps a hand on his shoulder, but he barely registers anything.

_One huge step closer_ , he thinks, _but how on earth…?_

He traces the words on the scroll disbelievingly, the texture of the heavy paper rough under his shaking fingers. The dark ink offers him no answers.

\---

When he walks into the Palace of the Crown Prince for the first time, Kyuhyun half-expects some kind of epiphany to wash over him, perhaps the feeling that he is returning to his rightful place, or perhaps the return of some distant poignant memory - but there is nothing. He shakes off his disappointment, observes the understated grandeur of the Palace instead. It is a quiet, cool morning. The ground is damp with rain from the night before. Kyuhyun inhales and the freshness of the air fills his lungs. 

“Officer Lee?” An elderly official - he’s terribly high-ranking, judging by his robes - descends from the steps, and Kyuhyun hastens to bow. “Welcome to the Palace of the Crown Prince. His Highness is in the study, and awaits you.”

Kyuhyun follows him, a little awestruck. Servants hold the door open for him and he enters the building, following the official down the corridor. Finally, they slide open another door and there is nothing left to do but for Kyuhyun to enter the study, his heart hammering in his chest.

“Officer Lee Donghyun, your Highness.” 

Kyuhyun bows deeply.

“You may rise,” the Crown Prince says, sounding amused. The timbre of his voice is very, very familiar. Kyuhyun’s eyes widen as he straightens his back in obedience.

It’s Joomyuk. 

The Crown Prince is _Joomyuk_. 

He is smiling, and Kyuhyun takes an involuntary step back in surprise. It cannot be.

Joomyuk glances at the senior official and nods, and the official makes a discreet exit, leaving the both of them alone in the room.

“Donghyun,” Joomyuk says, and Kyuhyun involuntarily meets his eyes. 

“Y - Your Highness.”

“Let’s dispense with the formalities,” Joomyuk says, gesturing at Kyuhyun to take a seat, and he does, lightheaded. “How have you been?”

“You never told me,” the words escape Kyuhuyn’s lips before he can think.

Joomyuk smiles enigmatically and reaches for the teapot on the table. Kyuhyun makes an aborted attempt to take over, but Joomyuk deftly pours out two cups of tea and pushes one towards him. “It must be a great shock to you, right? I’m sorry. My father -” _The King_ , Kyuhyun thinks, stunned, “- would only allow me to go on a rotation outside of the Palace if I swore to keep my identity a secret.”

The tea has a delicate fragrance; Kyuhyun watches as Joomyuk takes a sip of it before he follows suit. It buys him time to figure out what to say. 

“You’re angry at me,” Joomyuk says softly. His robes are dyed a rich, dark blue and it makes him look regal and beautiful and terribly distant. “I didn’t mean to deceive you.”

“I know,” Kyuhyun concedes. It’s a strangely uncomfortable experience sharing tea with the Crown Prince and being apologised to, but it also feels familiar. If only Kyuhyun could forget who Joomyuk truly is, they could very well have been sitting like this in that tavern that now feels very, very far away. “It’s just that I never expected this.”

“Zhou Mi.” When Kyuhyun simply stares, perplexed, Joomyuk’s lips quirk wryly and he explains, “that’s my real name. My name in Mandarin. I couldn’t tell you before, when you’d asked. It’s Zhou Mi.”

They finish the rest of the tea in silence, before Joomyuk - no, Zhou Mi - calls the senior official in again to instruct Kyuhyun on his duties. That is when they adjourn to another room, which turns out to be the aide’s study. Kyuhyun learns that this man is Zhou Mi’s current aide, but is retiring from his position in a week’s time. 

“Why was I chosen for this role?” Kyuhyun asks him, but receives no answer to his question.

He must look apprehensive, for the senior official offers him a benevolent smile and says instead, “I watched the Prince grow up. He is as kind a man now as he was a child. You do not need to worry. Besides, I saw your records and you are certainly not lacking. You will do well, Donghyun, if you may permit me to make such a judgement.”

“Thank you.”

“Prince Zhou Mi will become a good King someday, but he will need a capable aide to help him.”

That night, before retiring to his quarters, Kyuhyun stops by Zhou Mi’s study to tell him. Zhou Mi’s writing calligraphy in bold, flowing strokes, and Kyuhyun hovers at the doorway, unsure of how to tread this new line between friendship and subordination.

“The time we were both at the Justice Bureau,” Zhou Mi begins just as Kyuhyun decides he has lingered long enough, “That was the first time I worked with people my age. Maybe you won’t understand, but during those days, I finally learnt what it felt like to have peers - people with the same ideas and fervour as I did. One day this country will be hours, Donghyun. One day we shall become the men who rule the country and we shall have the power to make it a better one. I want you by my side,” the conviction in Zhou Mi’s voice makes Kyuhyun shiver a little, “I really do. You must wonder if all of this was planned. I can assure you that you being here is no accident of fate.”

The candle burns low, and Zhou Mi lays his brush down. The scroll is incomplete. Kyuhyun cannot read the elegant, flowing Mandarin script.

“The hour is late,” he murmurs, unsure of what else to say. “I should go.”

“Good night, Donghyun.”

\---

The nightmares worsen now that he is living in the Palace. It must be because every cell in his body still remembers the massacre years ago. But these days, he doesn’t dream of his father and mother any longer, and doesn’t hear their screams or see their tortured faces in his sleep. The only things that remain the same in the nightmare are the Palace, and the fire - the place now burns in terrible, unstoppable silence. Kyuhyun learns that soundless dreams are more terrifying than cacophonic ones.

One night, Zhou Mi discovers him in the middle of his swordfighting routine, and Kyuhyun only realises his presence when he whirls around to execute a move and almost decapitates the Crown Prince.

“Zhou Mi!” He yelps, and drops the sword. 

The folly of his words only hit him a few seconds later, as he’s bending down to pick up the blade again, and Kyuhyun shamefacedly bows as he sheathes it. 

“I was wondering what it would take to make you stop calling me Your Highness,” Zhou Mi’s eyes glitter with amusement. “I liked it better when you called me Joomyuk. Zhou Mi will do too.”

“You’re the _Prince_ ,” Kyuhyun mutters. “That would get me beheaded.” 

He regrets his words when Zhou Mi’s shoulders droop a little and he looks away. Now that he thinks about it, Zhou Mi feels different from the Joomyuk he’d known at the bureau. Zhou Mi pores over papers at his desk half the time, and surveys the various Palace offices the other half of it; the Crown Prince’s robes make him look dignified, but also infinitely burdened. Kyuhyun finds that he admires Zhou Mi far more than he did Joomyuk, but in a way he also pities him more too. 

“I will never let anybody behead you.” 

Kyuhyun wonders how sincere that promise really is, but lets that thought go unpondered for the moment. Instead, he asks, “do you swordfight?”

“Of course,” Zhou Mi says, “archery too.”

“I don’t know how to shoot an arrow,” Kyuhyun waves vaguely, “but if you want - if you would permit it, we could spar sometime?”

Zhou Mi’s face lights up when he smiles. It’s a sight that is hard to look away from.

\---

Eventually, Zhou Mi really does bring his sword over to Kyuhyun’s quarters with a grin and a flask of rice wine. It’s a sight that is quite unbecoming of a Crown Prince, but it makes Kyuhyun laugh. That is how they begin a nightly sparring ritual, and that is also how they become friends again. 

Although it might get him beheaded or at least imprisoned, Kyuhyun quickly realises Zhou Mi is quite terrible at swordfighting, and tells him that much when they’re catching their breath. Zhou Mi stares at him with wide eyes, and for a horrifying moment, Kyuhyun waits for the Imperial Guards to storm in and drag him to the gallows.

But instead, Zhou Mi laughs. “I really am, aren’t I?” 

“Yes,” Kyuhyun agrees, relieved. “You really are.”

“Donghyun,” Zhou Mi says when their mirth has died down a little. “What if I told you that you’re the first friend I’ve ever had?” Kyuhyun’s hands shake a little and he nearly spills some of the wine that he’s lifting to his lips. Zhou Mi ducks his head with a rueful huff. “It must sound improbable, but it is true.”

It’s late enough that the Palace is completely quiet, and Kyuhyun can hear the crackle of the torch that lights up the yard. He stares for a while at the flies darting madly around the flames, wondering what to say to such a confession. Zhou Mi has fallen silent and sits quietly at his side. When Kyuhyun looks sidelong at him, his face looks subdued in the flickering light and his posture is still careful and poised even though the hour is late and there is no one else to see him. 

“Do you wish you could have led a different life? That you weren’t a Prince?” Sometimes Kyuhyun is impressed that he’s still alive. On the one hand, it alarms him that he’s led his guard down this much - such carelessness will surely jeopardise his mission one day - and yet, on the other hand, he somehow implicitly trusts Zhou Mi not to take his wisecracks at face value. 

Zhou Mi glances at him, but quietly reaches out for more wine first, taking a slow sip. “Sometimes.” He exhales slowly, staring into the depths of his cup before emptying it with a gulp. “But ultimately I still would choose this life.”

“Really?” 

“There are many things wrong with this country. There are too many injustices that anger me and sometimes I wonder why other people don’t find them equally unacceptable. Being the Prince means feeling helpless a lot of the time.” Zhou Mi refills his cup and cradles it in a graceful hand. “I have diplomatic obligations and under the eaves of my father and his officials, I cannot always fight furiously for what I believe is right. It used to haunt me, and I was furious for a long time. But after a while I realised, what is my helplessness compared to that of the peasant child whose only recourse from hunger is theft? Or the farmer with nothing but a field of diseased crops and the beginnings of winter settling over the land? At least my voice is heard. And one day, when I become King, I know there will be a place for all my helplessness to become something worthwhile. That is why I would not ever choose another life.”

What can he say to that? Kyuhyun finds he cannot tear his eyes away from Zhou Mi’s face and the fire that resides in his brow as he speaks. “I understand,” he finally says. “Thank you for telling me this.”

“Thank you for listening, Kui Xian,” Zhou Mi smiles and leans back a little, eyes hooded with languor. He might be the most beautiful thing Kyuhyun has ever seen but he feels as untouchable as the moon.

They watch the torch burn down, swords lying forgotten by their sides. The wine is sweet and strong, and when Zhou Mi finally slips back to his own room, Kyuhyun watches him leave, his body leaden. 

\---

Autumn eventually segues into Winter without any warning, and it’s a harsher winter than Kyuhyun is used to, having grown up by the southern seas. Despite the additional layers of clothing he puts on and the fires he stokes, the cold wears away at him and there are some days when all Kyuhyun wants to do is hide in his bedroll forever. Everybody else gripes about it too, but somehow nobody looks like they’re having as hard a time as Kyuhyun is. He finds himself missing home more and more as the weeks go on. 

It is hence unfortunate that Zhou Mi loves the cold, and decides that the best way to revel in it is to go on extended hunting trips. 

“Slow down!” Kyuhyun calls out as Zhou Mi darts ahead on his horse, weaving through the trees with grace. He feels lightheaded and slightly out of breath - they’ve been riding since dawn, and the wind is cutting into his skin relentlessly. He hears a cry of triumph, and Zhou Mi’s horse speeding up. He must have spotted a deer, or some other game. Perhaps this means that they can return to the Palace before nightfall. Enlivened by the thought, Kyuhyun spurs his own horse onwards. 

He’s wrong. 

After minutes of pursuit, the deer still manages to slip away and Zhou Mi exclaims in disappointment. As Kyuhyun catches up, he turns and gives him an apologetic grin. His bearing upon the horse is easy and confident, and his cheeks are ruddy. He’s lovely in the way that only people with blessed, protected childhoods can be. Kyuhyun wants touch his upturned lips, wants to always have that smile turned upon him only, and he almost hates himself for it.

It is nightfall by the time they return to the Palace of the Crown Prince. Kyuhyun’s fingers feel like they are frozen to the reins, and he can’t stop shivering. His lungs hurt with every inhale as he trails behind Zhou Mi, hoping that his embarrassingly miserable state can go unnoticed. He grew up as a fisherman’s son! How can he possibly have less endurance than the Prince? 

He almost - almost - manages to completely hide his discomfort, if not for the need to dismount his horse. Kyuhyun gets one foot on the ground before he sways, dangerously light-headed. His limbs feel numb with cold and his body seems to rebel against him. Just as he thinks he’s about to pitch sideways into the mud, something comes up against him and steadies him. Kyuhyun’s head clears enough to notice that his cheek is pressed against Zhou Mi’s chest and that he’s being supported against it by a pair of strong arms. Burning with embarrassment, Kyuhyun tries to push away but his attempt is feeble.

“What’s wrong, Donghyun? You went really pale all of the sudden.”

“I’m fine. Just tired,” Kyuhyun slurs as Zhou Mi steers him towards his quarters. 

“You’re shivering. Were you not dressed warmly enough? Are you ill?” 

Kyuhyun shakes his head. Zhou Mi pushes open the door of Kyuhyun’s room and he heads towards the nearest chair and sinks into it. Pouring a cup of tea, Zhou Mi mutters something about calling the Royal Physician and Kyuhyun reaches out to stop him. 

“There is no need for that, the winter here is just harsher than what I’m used to.”

“Really?”

“It’s much warmer down south.”

Zhou Mi pulls up another chair to sit beside Kyuhyun. “I’ve never been to the sea. What’s it like?”

“It’s beautiful.” The sudden memory of his hometown makes a swell of homesickness rise in his heart. He can almost hear the crashing of the waves and smell the brine of the water. The cold clinging to his clothes makes him wish for the warmth of the quiet village he’s left behind. “I can’t describe it properly, but it’s beautiful.”

“You miss it,” Zhou Mi murmurs. Kyuhyun glances at him and nods. Zhou Mi lifts his hand a little, hesitating, and when Kyuhyun makes no movement except to continue staring at him, he slowly reaches out and lays his it over the back of Kyuhyun’s. Nobody has ever touched him with such singular, deliberate focus before. Judging by the look of uncertainty warring with determination in Zhou Mi’s expression, perhaps he has also never touched anybody like this before either.

“Visit my hometown with me someday.” Turning his hand over so that Zhou Mi’s palm is now pressed against his own, Kyuhyun pauses and then decides to link their fingers together. Zhou Mi smiles. His hair is still a little windswept from the day’s hunt, and there’s a smudge of dirt on his cheek. In this quiet moment, Kyuhyun can forget that he is the Crown Prince. Because Zhou Mi doesn’t pull back, Kyuhyun dredges up a bit more courage and reaches out with his free hand to thumb the smudge away. “I think you’ll really love it there too.”

Zhou Mi looks at their hands for a long while. Finally, he lifts them to his lips and presses a kiss to the back of Kyuhyun’s hand, his eyes closed. Heat rises up the back of Kyuhyun’s neck and his breath catches in his throat. When Zhou Mi lets go with a slightly abashed look on his face, Kyuhyun almost wants to ask for another kiss. He is not so foolish as to be ignorant of the way he feels about Zhou Mi - he wants him despite everything he has told himself to feel about the monarchy, and now it seems that Zhou Mi feels the same way too. But this is something that will endanger them both, and so Kyuhyun wills himself to err on the side of caution and just smiles at Zhou Mi.

“You look exhausted. Please rest. I should go,” Zhou Mi stands and makes for the doorway. 

“Sleep well, Zhou Mi,” Kyuhyun calls after him softly, and Zhou Mi turns back for a second, the unease on his face melting into something softer. He nods and then he is gone. The night is cold, and Kyuhyun falls asleep the moment he lies down.

\---

The longer he stays in the Palace, the more his determination wavers and wanes. It would be terribly easy to assassinate Zhou Mi - the man still can’t wield a sword well to save his life - and Kyuhyun has heard murmurs of the King being ill in health. Yet, Kyuhyun has to admit that the country truly is doing well. He doesn’t know if he could do as good a job should he regain the throne. It is a thought that troubles him - how can he simply put aside something he has been working towards all his life? And yet, what if he turns out to be a failed King?

He writes to his father about his doubts, missing the reassuring timbre of his voice. It takes a long time for a reply to come, and in that period of time, the worst of Winter passes and Spring arrives. Over those months, it seems like nothing changes between Kyuhyun and Zhou Mi - neither of them choose to advance that first step that was taken when Zhou Mi kissed his hand on that cold, cold night that now feels like a fever dream. They remain friends, but on the occasions where Zhou Mi is able to finish Kyuhyun’s sentences or the nights where Kyuhyun has force Zhou Mi to retire for the night instead of poring over papers until dawn, Kyuhyun sometimes cannot help but think of what more they could be, what it would feel like to belong to Zhou Mi and have Zhou Mi belong to him. He supposes Zhou Mi must feel the same way, for Kyuhyun sometimes turns to catch him staring with an intensity that makes him forget to breathe for a second.

Eventually, his father’s letter arrives at the Palace and Kyuhyun reads it hungrily. It’s written in Donghwa’s hand, and Kyuhyun pictures the both of them seated at the rickety wooden table as Donghwa transcribes his father’s calm words.

_My dear son_ , it begins, and tears start unexpectedly in Kyuhyun’s eyes at those words, _I once told you that this path is a burden that doesn’t have to be yours to bear. Neither your late parents nor the country will begrudge you for turning away from it. Your mother wanted you to live well. I am not a learned man but I believe you will agree with me when I say that there are many ways of doing so. Whatever your choice may be, know that you will always have a home to return to here._

Kyuhyun reads the letter twice before he folds and keeps it. The stone bench he sits on is cool and the air is crisp. The Palace is beautiful and somewhere along the way Kyuhyun feels like he’s lost the desire to conquer it. He stays where he is until the sun sets.

That night, he slips into Zhou Mi’s room when the hour is late. The candle is burning low and Zhou Mi is, as usual, hunched over his work. He is so deep in thought he does not even notice Kyuhyun’s entrance until Kyuhyun pulls up a chair to sit beside him.

“The work can wait. Go to bed.” 

Zhou Mi knuckles at his eyes tiredly. This is a conversation they always seem to have. Kyuhyun gently takes the brush from his hand and lays it down. The tips of Zhou Mi’s fingers are stained with ink and he nods at Kyuhyun’s words, taking a final glance at what he’s writing before he slowly stands up. 

“Zhou Mi,” Kyuhyun says, and this makes the older man stop to look down at him with a question resting in the quirk of his lips. Most of the time, Kyuhyun still calls Zhou Mi by honorifics; the occasions in which he uses his real name are few and far between. 

“Kui Xian?”

Throwing caution to the wind, Kyuhyun stands too, tugging on Zhou Mi’s sleeve until he draws closer. Kyuhyun wants this so, so ardently. He steps forward until they’re standing so close that he can feel Zhou Mi’s breath on his skin. He reaches out to cup Zhou Mi’s face in his hands and Zhou Mi makes a soft, involuntary exclamation that sends a tremor down Kyuhyun’s spine.

“You need to tell me no,” Kyuhyun whispers, staring at Zhou Mi’s lips because it feels like looking at his eyes would be too much for him. “We can’t do this.”

“And yet.” Zhou Mi says. His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip in nervousness, and Kyuhyun closes the last of the distance between them, kissing him deeply before he loses his nerve. Zhou Mi pulls him even closer, sighing into the kiss. 

Encircled in Zhou Mi’s arms, Kyuhyun thinks again of his father’s words and feels - for the first time since he’s been a child - whole for a moment. Perhaps his father really is right and there are many ways to be happy. 

“And yet,” he agrees as they draw apart.


	3. Chapter 3

Kyuhyun eventually meets the King when he visits the Palace of the Crown Prince one day while Zhou Mi and him are fiercely debating some historical documents. The King is unaccompanied by the guards and enters the room very discreetly, so the both of them barely notice his presence until he clears his throat and they jump apart in surprise. 

“Father!” Zhou Mi exclaims in surprise just as Kyuhyun bows in haste.

“Is this your new aide?” The King asks, and Zhou Mi nods. Kyuhyun straightens his back. The moment the King lays eyes upon his face, his gaze becomes sharp and assessing. Kyuhyun schools his expression into one of subservience and calm.

Zhou Mi and his father retire into a room to speak of family affairs, and Kyuhyun makes a retreat. He wonders what the King saw when he looked at him; it makes him uneasy. Yet, after the King leaves, nothing happens. 

Kyuhyun waits to be dragged out for questioning or investigation at some point, but days and then weeks pass and there is nothing. Nothing at all.

“Father has been talking about betrothals lately,” Zhou Mi says quietly, one day.

They have just finished sparring, and are sitting at the foot of an old tree. They are pressed shoulder to shoulder, something that would cause raised eyebrows and murmurs of Kyuhyun’s insubordination if it weren’t for the fact that the hour is late and only the night patrol guards remain.

Kyuhyun picks at a loose thread in his sleeve. “It is your duty to produce an heir to the throne,” he reasons. “It’s a natural part of being the Crown Prince.”

“I know. You’re right. You’re both right.” Zhou Mi sighs and leans back against the tree. 

The day Zhou Mi marries would be the day they cease… Whatever it is that they have between them - the stolen kisses in Zhou Mi’s study, the nights when Kyuhyun slips into his bed and leaves before dawn creeps into the sky, their urgent, impassioned coupling kept under the deepest covers of secrecy. The nightmares don’t go away, but the difference is that now Kyuhyun jerks awake from them to find Zhou Mi holding him in secure arms, whispering the gentlest words in his ear as Kyuhyun shakes the residue of terror from his mind. Sometimes he fears what he might let slip in his sleep, but Zhou Mi doesn’t say anything and so it seems that his true identity is safely hidden. The nightmares become bearable. 

“For what it’s worth,” Kyuhyun says quietly, “I won’t ever leave your side.”

Zhou Mi reaches over and takes his hand, holding it in a tender grip. 

That’s when Kyuhyun realises that his heart had already made a choice for him. 

\---

Even more months pass; when Zhou Mi informs Kyuhyun that they will be embarking on a diplomatic trip to the North, Kyuhyun realises with a start that it’s been a very long time since he’s left the Palace. It must be an important mission, for the King will also be going with them. They are due to set off in two weeks and Kyuhyun cannot help but feel excited at the thought.

But in the meantime, Zhou Mi suggests a small hunting trip in the forest by the Palace, and used to these requests, Kyuhyun acquiesces, only to find that the King has also decided to come along as well to indulge his son.

They ride together, trailed by a small party of guards. The skies are clear and the air invigorating - a perfect morning for hunting. As they approach the outer reaches of the Palace grounds, Zhou Mi suddenly spurs his horse into a gallop, speeding towards a thicket of trees. It makes Kyuhyun nervous; the trees and bushes in this part of the Palace have grown dense, and they seem to obscure the very ravine that remains in his memory. A single careless move...

“Your Highness,” Kyuhyun calls, instinct getting the better of his judgement, “Mind that you do not fall into the ravine.”

Zhou Mi doesn’t seem to have heard him, but when Kyuhyun recovers from his worry, he realises that the King is staring at him once again with that look in his eyes. Blessedly, Zhou Mi chooses that moment to call for him to hurry up, and so Kyuhyun quickly looks away and spurs his horse onwards, heart hammering a panicked rhythm.

Yet, it isn’t until they have embarked on their journey to the North, that the King chooses to pursue the topic. 

“How long have you been in the Palace, Official Lee?” The King asks as they are stopped by a clearing for rest. His Korean is accented, but his use of the language is faultless. 

“A bit more than a year,” Kyuhyun says. Zhou Mi is a small distance away, washing his face in a stream. Kyuhyun wishes that he would come back. “I was in the Treasury, before.”

“That ravine was filled up with rocks years and years ago,” replies the King conversationally. “Imagine my surprise when I heard you speaking of it the other day.”

“I’d heard stories, and there were old historical records of the Palace grounds,” Kyuhyun tries to steady his voice and sound calm, but fear holds his heart in a vicelike grip. “I did not know the ravine had been filled since then, Your Majesty.”

“I see,” the King replies. 

Zhou Mi returns to them, and they do not speak of that matter anymore that day. That night, Kyuhyun does not sleep out of the fear of what nightmares may come, but also what he might utter in his dreams.

\---

Their journey to the North takes a few more days. On the last one, they arrive at a border town where an air of desolation and dissatisfaction hangs in the air with the dirty mist. The guards look upon it with distaste, but night has fallen and it has been raining. It would be unwise to press on. They go to the local inn for the night, and Kyuhyun takes care not to pay the innkeeper too readily. Even though they are all travelling in commoners’ clothes, it is still undeniable that their garments are of superior make compared to the rough, stained ones of the locals. It would be best not to draw attention to how much money they are carrying as well.

There is a group of thuggish men at a distant table eyeing them with uncharitable interest. Kyuhyun contemplates sending the guards to chase them off, but that would draw even more unwanted gazes upon them. By the looks of it, they must be bandits or some other miscreants of sort - even the other locals are giving them a wide berth.

Zhou Mi retires for the night early, his face drawn and tired. Kyuhyun follows him to his room and puts him to bed. He’s idly stroking Zhou Mi’s hair when Zhou Mi suddenly grabs his wrist. 

“Sleep here tonight,” he whispers. 

A childhood spent tagging after his older brothers on their exploits has taught Kyuhyun what unwise decisions look like; the consequence for something like this would be more than just bruised knees, angry neighbours, and on one incident that remains particularly vivid in the village’s collective memory, three boys accidentally set adrift on a leaky boat in the middle of the sea as a storm brews.

So he leans down to kiss Zhou Mi’s brow before pulling away. “You know I can’t,” he replies softly. 

Zhou Mi pouts in a way that’s very unbecoming of a Prince, and Kyuhyun chuckles. He moves towards the door, snuffing out the candle in the room on the way out. 

The King approaches him just as he is about to enter his own room, and Kyuhyun tries not to let his steps falter. “Shall we have a word together?”

Kyuhyun can do nothing but obey, following the King into the largest room in the inn, the one they’d requested for him. He can guess at the shape this conversation is going to take, and there is nothing he can do to stave off this moment of eventuality. It’s just that he’d never imagined it taking place so far from the palace.

“I always wondered why my son put in such a firm request to have you as his aide,” the King gestures for Kyuhyun to sit down at the table across from him. “You seemed capable, certainly, and you did good work at your previous stations. But there are numerous officials like that in the palace and I could not fathom how he chose you, out of all of them. Perhaps it does not matter now - I am satisfied with what you have been doing and it seems like it has done the Crown Prince good to have some same-aged company too.”

This is not what he was expecting, and Kyuhyun bows cautiously. The King is a shrewd man - he must have a reason for dispensing such praise. Kyuhyun watches as the King pours himself some tea, taking a ponderous sip before continuing, “Official Lee, what made you look towards the capital? It is certainly a very long way from your distant village.”

“My parents desired me to be a learned man,” Kyuhyun answers, weighing his words carefully. “But in my hometown, there are few avenues for scholars. The path took me to the capital instead.”

“So it was your parents.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Cho Kyuhyun,” the King says, and Kyuhyun’s blood runs cold. “You are Cho Kyuhyun, aren’t you? You look very much like your father.”

Kyuhyun stands abruptly, the chair scraping backwards on the floorboards with a rough screech. “Your Majesty - ”

“I failed to kill you, all those years ago.” The King looks at him with terrifying calm. “But you can rest assured that I have no desire to try again. You must have come all this way to kill me, instead.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Kyuhyun rasps. His sword is at his belt but his arm feels frozen to his side. “What do you want?”

The King looks up at him, searching his face with his eyes. “We were all young, hot-blooded men once. I thirsted to rule, and your kingdom shed blood to feed that thirst. I regretted nothing. I saw it as the necessary path to kingship. But now I am old, and I know I have a debt to pay for this throne I have. I have done unforgivable wrong upon you.”

“I could kill you right now, and you couldn’t stop me.” 

“I know. Yet, you could have done the same to my son months ago and you did not. Why, Kyuhyun?”

“Shut up. Don’t call me that. Don’t you _dare_ call me that.”

“He has become a changed man after you came,” the King continues relentlessly, “and I think perhaps you saw something in him that kept you from your revenge too. He was also only a child at that time, you know. Just like you.”

“What are you trying - ”

“Kill me if you must. I owe you that much. You can slip away into the North before the guards catch on to it and I would not stop you. But if you would even want to listen to me, spare my son. He has done no wrong and neither have you.”

Before Kyuhyun can unsheathe his sword to stop the words, there is a deafening crash outside, and muffled, aborted screams. He turns just in time to see through the screened door the shadow of a pillar outside the room collapsing. One of the guards screams out for help but is silenced. Outside the inn, there are screams and shouts from the locals, fearful and uncontrolled. From beneath the door, the smell of smoke begins to seep into the rooms. Heavy footsteps pound down the corridor and there is the sound of swords being drawn. Kyuhyun turns back towards the King only to see that he looks similarly stunned. 

“It must be bandits.”

There is only one thing to do, and so Kyuhyun draws his blade too as the footsteps approach their room. It sounds like there are no less than seven men, and amid the crackling of the fire, Kyuhyun cannot hear the palace guards. Have they all been killed?

 _Zhou Mi_ , he thinks, eyes widening. Zhou Mi’s room is further down the corridor, and it seems likely that they would be found first. 

“There are too many of them,” Kyuhyun whispers, racking his brain for a solution and finding nothing save a final attempt at making it out alive.

He does not notice the King until the old man walks up to his side, with a sword in hand. Kyuhyun did not even know he had one with him. But the odds are still horrible and Kyuhyun hasn’t felt this terrified since the night he escaped from the Palace.

“Take my son and leave this place,” the King tells him with steel in his voice. 

“Your Majesty?”

“ _Go_.” 

Before Kyuhyun can stop him, the King pushes the door open and steps out into the flame and smoke, turning right down the corridor towards the bandits, suddenly a small figure in the face of certain death. The men clothed in black rush at him and he stands his ground. Kyuhyun stares in horror for a protracted moment, before he bursts out of the room, turning left towards Zhou Mi’s, every step taking him further from where the bandits are advancing upon the King. His eyes burn with smoke.

He throws open Zhou Mi’s door just as the first ring of steel upon steel sounds out. Zhou Mi is still asleep, his complexion feverish and pale. Kyuhyun shakes him awake and pulls him upright.

“We are being attacked,” he hisses, and the confusion clears from Zhou Mi’s face and is replaced by fear. “Let’s go.”

They cannot leave the room again - already they can hear the heavy footsteps advancing closer once more, and Zhou Mi tenses and grabs at Kyuhyun’s arm. “My father - ”

Kyuhyun bites his lip, pushing him towards the window. They are on the second floor, and the fall would not be too bad. Zhou Mi stumbles forward, still disoriented, and Kyuhyun barricades the door from inside with a chair. He tugs on Zhou Mi’s hand until they’re both at the window. The bandits outside are already trying to break into the room, and part of the door splinters with a sickening crunch. 

Blessedly, there are sacks of grain right below their window. Kyuhyun forces Zhou Mi out of it, jumping down after him. He gets the breath knocked out of him upon landing, but scrambles to his feet. They need to get out of here, far from the fire and the bandits.

Zhou Mi tries to fight back, to return to the building to find his father, but Kyuhyun grits his teeth and drags him away. 

“Kui Xian, let me go! What are you doing?”

“There’s nothing you can do, Zhou Mi.”

“Why are you being like this? Let me go! This is an order, Lee Donghyun.” 

Kyuhyun only holds on tighter. “You can’t save him. He went to confront them.”

Zhou Mi stills in his arm, going slack with shock. “What?”

“He wanted me to take you and run.” Taking advantage of Zhou Mi’s surprise, Kyuhyun pulls him forward. “We need to get out of here.”

“No. _No_ , you are lying to me.”

Kyuhyun shakes his head and continues walking. They cannot go back. With every step he takes, Zhou Mi tries to fight back, and Kyuhyun can feel the heat of his tears. Still, he persists. The air is thick with smoke as the inn burns down behind them and they both choke on the fumes, which do not dissipate but cling with the damp fog. He feels sick to his stomach.

Eventually, Zhou Mi’s struggling grows weak. They have retreated into the woods, a reasonable distance away from the town. Kyuhyun feels confident that they are no longer being pursued, and so he lets go of Zhou Mi, watching helplessly as he sinks to the ground, almost catatonic with shock and grief. 

“I’m sorry,” Kyuhyun whispers, kneeling down to hold Zhou Mi tightly. “I’m so sorry.”

Zhou Mi shakes his head, curling into Kyuhyun.

They stay like that until the Zhou Mi runs out of tears, until it becomes so late at night that the weather becomes chilly. There is nothing they can do but go on, and so Kyuhyun gathers all his strength and gets the both of them standing, walking the long road towards safety and home again.

\---

 _Epilogue_

They eventually make it back to the Palace again days and days later, alive only because of the kindness of strangers they encountered along the way. Kyuhyun sees to it that Zhou Mi is in the capable hands of the Royal Physicians before collapsing into a dead faint himself. He sleeps for three days.

The nation mourns the loss of their King, and Zhou Mi grieves for his lost father. On the worst of days, Kyuhyun can do nothing but hold him and whisper that things will eventually be all right. 

Spring passes, and then Summer. They begin to heal. 

Zhou Mi is formally crowned as King on the first day of Autumn, and Kyuhyun watches the ceremony with nary a tinge of jealousy, only pride. He never tells Zhou Mi about the final conversation that transpired between him and the late King - perhaps some things are better buried and left untouched. Having lived so long as Lee Donghyun, he finds that he can keep the identity of Cho Kyuhyun for himself, in his heart. Besides, Zhou Mi increasingly refers to him with neither name, opting instead for Kui Xian, always.

They throw themselves into the running of the country, and Zhou Mi jokingly refers to Kyuhyun as the second King - something that makes the palace officials gape at his audacity. No one raises any objections when the King’s living quarters become Kyuhyun’s as well. If anything, the palace maids seem to find it charming, and sometimes giggle behind their hands when Kyuhyun stumbles out of Zhou Mi’s room in the morning, still half-asleep and up later than the King himself.

That trip to the sea has to wait. They put it off for another year, wanting to stabilise Zhou Mi’s rule before going away. Kyuhyun never stops missing his hometown, but the ache becomes infinitely bearable whenever he thinks of some new law or other that he enacts benefiting his family too.

It is Winter again, by the time they make it to that sleepy seaside village from whence Kyuhyun came. 

Zhou Mi follows behind him as he steps over the threshold into his home. His father seems unchanged, but Donghwa has married and become a father. Donghae flings himself at Kyuhyun in a crushing hug, holding on for a long, long time to hide his happy tears. 

“I’m home,” Kyuhyun says, and his father kisses his forehead, eyes crinkling in that smile that Kyuhyun has missed so much. 

That evening, before the sun begins to set, Kyuhyun takes Zhou Mi to the beach. They sit upon the huge rocks, watching the waves crash onto the shore. Zhou Mi’s eyes are shining as he takes in the sight for the first time, and Kyuhyun watches him watching the gulls flying low over the water. 

He turns towards the vast, open sea, thinking about all the improbable feats of destiny that brought them to this moment. Kyuhyun closes his eyes and inhales the sea’s scent. Zhou Mi’s hand reaches over to cover his, and Kyuhyun leans against his side. 

“You look happy,” Zhou Mi murmurs, staring down at Kyuhyun with infinite softness. 

Kyuhyun finds that he cannot stop the smile that finds its way to his lips. He looks at the sea for a moment longer, before he meets Zhou Mi’s eyes.

“I am,” he says, surprising even himself with how certain he feels about it, “I really am.”


End file.
